


To Whatever End

by Lexilindale35



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:53:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexilindale35/pseuds/Lexilindale35
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wanted to find a way to bring him back. Because the gods couldn’t offer her a chance at happiness, a little sliver of a life she didn’t think was possible, and then yank it away from her like this. </p>
<p>That wasn’t fair, where was her happy ending? Why was she the one who was forced to lose everyone and everything she had ever truly loved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Whatever End

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this. I wrote it based off Carrie Underwood's just a dream.
> 
> and possibly changed it up with a little something extra. Thanks for reading =)

Nesta watched the doors open through a tunnel. She couldn't breathe, she could barely keep her feelings in check. Her mind kept reeling around how unfair this whole situation was. How unfair her life had become. They hadn't had enough time together. They were just beginning to sort out their feelings, to understand their bond and then he was taken away from her. She couldn't understand the pain, she couldn't handle the break in her heart or the shattering of her soul.

The black dress she wore was stiff, it was slightly too big. She had borrowed one of Feyre’s, it should’ve fit her. It should’ve been too tight if they were being honest. Because Feyre was smaller than Nesta. But then again ever since that day Nesta hadn’t been eating. She wasn’t hungry, she couldn’t keep any solid foods down. She had lost a lot of weight.

Everyone pretended like they didn’t notice. They knew she was grieving. No one knew how to help her heal. No one knew the pain of losing the other part of themselves.

Nesta didn’t want to wear this stupid dress, or the veil that Feyre found. She didn’t want to come to the church and have everyone stare at her with pity in their eyes. She didn’t even want to sit with her sisters and pretend like they were helping her by holding onto her. She wanted to sit in her room, alone and cry. She wanted to think of the man who promised to fight for her, even when she was human.

She wanted to find a way to bring him back. Because the gods couldn’t offer her a chance at happiness, a little sliver of a life she didn’t think was possible, and then yank it away from her like this. That wasn’t fair, where was her happy ending? Why was she the one who was forced to lose everyone and everything she had ever truly loved?

How was one person, one tiny person, suppose to carry that much weight on their shoulders?

Rhysand was the one who insisted on a funeral. Nesta wanted to mourn her mate, her first and only love without an audience. That’s how she did everything, she shut herself up and tried to live life like it was normal. But she couldn’t find a way to bottle this up. She couldn’t find a way to get out of bed without him here with her. She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t function now that he was gone.

She didn’t remember a life without Cassian. He had been embedded into her soul, into her flesh as if she never truly lived until they found each other. Now that he was gone, she couldn’t remember how to be her own person. She couldn’t remember what it was like to live life without someone to share all the little moments with.

Feyre told her the funeral was necessary. Both of her sisters told her this would help her heal. Feyre said it would help her start to let go of Cassian.

The problem was she had finally started to hold onto him. Now letting go didn’t seem like an option for her.

Their bond had scared Nesta when it first appeared. She had been sparing with him, fighting with words and trying to train to use her new strength. One moment hate flashed through her, hot and solid. She swung her first and he grabbed her wrist, stopping the punch and then looking into her blue eyes. Something about his look, something about the way he held her wrist in his big hands as gently as he could, made her heart stop.

The air left her lungs, she felt them deflate as her soul burned around the edges and suddenly Cassian was there at the very center. She stumbled, her heart throbbing and her mind a jumble of words and feelings she couldn’t quiet get a hold of. Cassian just kept staring, a small smile playing on his lips.

“My mate,” he whispered in awe as he looked at her as if it was the first time he truly saw her, “you’re my mate.”

Nesta stumbled away, running and hiding away in her room. She stayed locked behind that big wooden door for three days, crying and hurting because she was so scared of this new life, of these new feelings she never ever gave into in her human form. The bond throbbed, she knew Cassian was hurting because of her and that made her feel worse. But then she could feel him, outside her door waiting.

He was waiting for her to talk. Waiting for her to be ready.

Cassian never pushed her. He never forced her into the bond without asking. When they shared their first kiss he had been so scared, so hesitant that Nesta grabbed his collar and pressed her body to his. He acted as if she was glass, as if she would shatter the moment he gave into his impulses, the moment he gave into everything his body was demanding of hers.

Nesta knew now, as she walked down the long aisle of the church, the way Cassian let her set their pace, the fact that he treated her like the most precious gift he had ever been given, that was the reason she had finally fallen in love with him. Not because of some supernatural bond that connected them. No she could’ve lived without him, even if she knew he was there in her soul. She fell in love with the man who wanted her to choose, the man who gave her a reason to smile and fight in this new body of hers.

Now she was angry with him. She kept her eyes off the casket as Feyre took her arm and guided her into the first pew where Mor and Azriel were already sitting. Mor had big tears in her eyes, she reached for Nesta’s hand before they tried to soothe each other with sweet words that wouldn’t bring him back. Rhysand was talking to the priestess, Nesta knew he was asking her to say the words his friend would want to hear.

Cassian wouldn’t want them to gather around crying like this. He would want them to be happy, to smile and remember the clown that he was. Cassian loved life, he loved this family he had found in that war camp long ago. He wouldn’t want them to miss him, but Nesta knew she couldn’t stop it. She missed him with all the pain her little body could feel. The bond throbbed, it had shattered the moment that arrow hit his chest.

She felt a part of her heart, her soul, die with her mate that day on the battlefield.

Mor squeezed her hand, “I never told Cassian, but I was really happy you two found each other,” she whispered softly, pulling Nesta in closer. 

Nesta never thought of these people as her family. She stayed with them because Feyre was her family and she accepted the circle. Nesta kept her distance, too afraid of relying on them when things got hard and having them pull away. She wasn’t ready to lose another life, like the one she lost when her father fell apart.

But sitting there with Mor on one side and Feyre on the other, she was glad she wasn’t alone. She couldn’t stand this pain alone, she would’ve done something stupid. Something that would’ve made Cassian shake his head and laugh, calling her his little hellfire. She could feel herself sparking and fuming, her body didn't want to just accept that he was gone.

But she had been there, she watched the life leave his eyes, his lips tremble as he held her hand. The last thing he had whispered was an apology as he reached out to touch her face. Her warrior always thinking about her, always trying to keep her safe. In the end he had shattered her beyond repair. She would never love another the way she had loved Cassian. She would never find a friend, a partner, an equal in another person, human or fae.

Nesta surprised Mor by hugging her tightly, “he loved you. He loved you too Az,” she touched the shadow singer’s shoulder. He was trying not to cry, he was trying to keep it together for his family, for Mor. His shadows were dark, dancing close to him as he held tightly to his emotions. Everyone felt a piece of their soul die the day they lost Cassian. He had been their brother, their warrior.

Five hundred years hadn’t prepared them for losing a member of the circle.

Mor wiped away a tear as Azriel laced their fingers together, “I’ve never seen him as happy with his life, with this family, as he was the day you two bonded. He loved you Nesta, he loved you something fierce. The day he met you, in that human world, he told me he would do everything to protect you.”

She wiped away her own tear as Rhysand came to sit beside Feyre. He reached over and squeezed her knee gently. They were all being so nice, Nesta could barely take it. She could barely hold her heart together missing her mate, she didn’t want their pity. She didn’t want the pretty words they were offering her, the sentences filled with tales of how much Cassian had loved her. She knew he loved her, she had been on the receiving end of the bond. She knew she would always love him, death wouldn’t change that.

But she couldn’t bring herself to ask them to stop. For some reason she let them patronize her, she let her sister hold her close as the tears filled her eyes. 

Elain sat with Lucien in the pew behind them. She told her sister she would sit with them, but Nesta knew she needed her mate. They all did in this time of grieving. They all had that person who would help them find their way through the darkness, through the pain of losing someone so close to them. They were all lucky, they had someone to go home to.

Nesta was the one who would be left broken and alone after the funeral was over.

The congregation started, Nesta wasn’t listening. She didn’t need to hear someone else tell her Cassian’s story. They had spent countless nights wrapped up in each other, Cassian running his fingers along her skin as he told her about his childhood. Or lack therefore of one. He told her about the war camps, about meeting Rhysand and finding a home within the Night Court. He told her how he never truly loved a woman he bedded, except Mor. But that love changed into a brotherly sort of love, one that still held even after he met Nesta.

He told her how he always thought he didn’t deserve a mate. Since he was bastard born and bred to be a warrior he didn’t think the Gods wanted him to have a mate, to have a family and fill the world with more Illyrians. Nesta held him close when he spoke, kissed away his tears when it became too much. Nesta never interrupted him, she held him and listened.

Because he had done the same for her. He listened as she told him her fears, the doubts that crept in at night after she was made. She told him about how hard being a human had been, how she clung to the anger she had for her father, it was the only thing that kept her alive in that cabin. She told him about the shame she carried, for letting Feyre be their caretaker. She should’ve stepped up, she was the oldest.

Cassian told her if things had been different they might not have been there in that bed. He had somehow turned her into a romantic and she told him that they would’ve found a way together, somehow. The Gods would’ve brought them together even if Feyre had never killed that wolf, if she had never freed them from the curse.

Rhysand was crying, a sight Nesta had never seen. Azriel stopped closing the lid on his emotions and a tear slipped down his cheek as the casket sat before them. It was closed, none of them could bare to stare at their fallen friend for the duration of the ceremony. Not when he looked like he was sleeping. Nesta knew it would break her heart knowing that he would never open those beautiful eyes of his again.

She just wanted to crawl into that wooden box and let them bury them together. She told Feyre that last night, another reason why they decided to keep the casket closed. Because Nesta knew her sister was trying as hard as she could to spare her feelings. To spare her poor broken heart.

The words faded as a shot rang out honoring Cassian for his service in Rhysand’s army. Nesta jumped slightly, the sound felt like a bullet in her heart. She shook her head, she couldn’t sit here and watch the casket be lowered into the ground. She couldn’t pretend like she was okay with letting him go. Because she didn’t want to live for the rest of her life, for the rest of forever, without him. That was too long, there was too much road ahead of her to travel alone. The edges of her vision fogged as the tunnel closed in on her. She couldn’t breathe, her lungs were on fire.

“Nesta,” someone called her name. She looked up and Feyre stood in front of her, her eyes were red. Nesta’s body shook, “Nesta listen to me. Nesta can you hear me?”

The world snapped back into focus, Nesta could smell the fire. She wasn’t sitting in a church, she wasn’t wearing a black dress. She was still kneeling on the battlefield, tears clouding her eyes as Rhysand screamed out in pain because Cassian had been hit. 

Cassian. Her heart stopped, he had been hit by an arrow. A poison ash arrow. Nesta saw it happen, Nesta had been trying to reach him when he fell. The tears in her eyes vanished as she looked up and tried to find him. The moment he had been hit he found her in the crowd. His brown eyes landed on hers and she knew he wasn’t going to fight it. She knew he was going to die protecting her.

Because that arrow had been meant for her heart, not his.

Nesta’s mouth was dry as she sat up. Feyre stood there, looking like she was ready to slap her sister across the face in order to wake her up. Nesta’s eyes were still frantically searching for Cassian when she realized he was on the ground. A circle had gathered around her fallen mate. Her body and soul found each other again as she snapped into action.

She sprang to her feet getting away from her sister and kneeling down to her mate. She grabbed his hand, blood was forming around the corner of his mouth. But those brown eyes still had that light. They still looked up at her with so much love. 

She swallowed her pain as he used what little strength he had left to speak, “Nesta,” he whispered, still reaching for her. Still trying so hard to protect her. Nesta shook her head, telling him she wasn’t giving him a choice, she was here, she would fix this.

This was her moment to redeem herself for letting Feyre take care of them. This was her moment for redeeming all those weeks her little sister fought a fae to free them from the hell that was the curse they were all trapped within. She squeezed his hand making up her mind without even having to decide.

Her eyes traveled down his tan skin. The wooden arrow was sticking out of his chest. If it had been an inch further to the right it would’ve hit his heart. She let out a sob lacing their fingers together, “I won’t let you die on me. I won’t let you go.”

He wiped away a tear, the image of him laying in his own blood, his wings shredded hitting her all over again. It had been decades since that first war with Armantha. Decades since Nesta had been thrown into that cauldron and remade. But the image of Cassian picking his blood soaked hand up, reaching for her as if he could stop that water from touching her, still haunted her dreams. Sometimes she still wakes up panting and sweating, shaking and checking to make sure he was still breathing beside her.

She wouldn’t let this happen again. She wouldn’t let him go.

Her tears spilled over as she looked at Rhysand, “pull the arrow out.”

“We should wait for the healers. It’s poison Nesta, it could get to his heart before you even find a way to save him,” he said softly.

Nesta growled, “pull the fucking arrow out of his chest. We don’t have time to wait for the healers. I can save him, I have to save him.”

They all watched as Nesta tried as hard as she could to stay calm for her mate. Cassian was calm, there wasn’t an ounce of fear or pain in their bond as he held her hand. He was in a state of shock, a state of wondering what was going to happen as he laid there wishing he could just stare at Nesta until the Gods came to claim him. He knew the risks of being the commander in this battle. He knew he would someday lose his life on this field.

He didn’t realize when that time came it would hurt like hell. Or that he would have finally found the happiness he thought life would always deny him.

Azriel put his hand arrow the wooden staff of the arrow and Rhysand held Cassian’s shoulders. Nesta watched as he bit down on his lip, Azriel didn’t waste any time. He just yanked the arrow out, Cassian screamed. Nesta felt a trickle of pain shoot through her. She latched onto it, trying to stop the pain from eating him alive as he laid there. She could feel it, it was in every piece of his soul. The pain was trying to take him under.

The bond he shared with Nesta, the thread that connected their hearts together, was the only thing keeping his tethered to this world. 

“Feyre hand me a cloth,” she instructed everyone to a task as she kept holding his hand. Feyre cleaned the wound and Nesta let her tears fill her eyes. When Cassian was still gasping for air, the blood cleaned from his chest, she stood up.

He tried to stop her but he was too weak. He clenched her hand trying to keep her there beside him. She shook her head, “trust me,” she whispered softly, “I’ve got you love.”

He smiled, despite the burning inside his chest, as she imitated his voice, the words he used every night they were together. Nesta held herself together with a grace he had never seen before. She wasn’t the scared little girl, full of anger and hatred he had met all those years ago in that house. No she was a woman, full of love and a need to keep him here with her. She was a new verse of a beautiful creature he wanted to spend his life learning.

Nesta leaned down, her tears spilling over as she let herself cry. Cassian closed his eyes, the magic of her tears, the one part of the cauldron she never told anyone else about, burned his wound. But he knew this would save him. He knew this was the reason why the Gods had given her those golden tears. The tears that sparkled whenever they were laying in bed and she let them fall.

She kept her emotions locked away, for fear of someone learning of this magic. Magic neither of them understood, but were too afraid to inquire about. Nesta knew this ability would one day come in handy, she just didn’t realize it would be in saving her own mate’s life.

She didn’t realize it would be a test of her strength both physically and emotionally.

“What in the world,” Feyre whispered softly as Rhysand and Azriel stood there watching it all happen. The men were silent watching as the gold glistened off the warrior’s skin and stitched his flesh back together. Mor’s mouth fell open as Cassian’s color returned, the blood left his mouth. He could breathe again, the poison cleaned out of his system.

Cassian sat up slowly, pulling Nesta with him, “you saved my life,” he looked at her as the healers finally arrive, “you risked your secret for me.”

“You’re my mate,” She said softly, threading her fingers through his hair, “no secret is worth having if I don’t have you to share it with.”

Cassian’s smile was the best sight she had ever seen. Because she thought she would never see it again. She thought these would be the last few moments they got to share together. Nesta threw her arms around him and held on tightly, their bond throbbing with pain and happiness. With relief flooding through both of them.

The healers were confused, there was no one injured for them to look at. Rhysand sent them away and then turned to look at his brother and sister in law, “so you’ve always had this ability? Ever since you came out of the cauldron?”

Nesta nodded slowly, “I figured it out one night when Cassian cut himself,” she whispered softly, his big calloused hands grabbing hers. They didn’t have time for this conversation, they needed to get out of the battlefield, “I just. I asked Cassian not to tell. I didn’t think it would matter.”

Rhysand looked at Feyre and for a moment Nesta thought he was going to yell at her. Cassian braced himself, getting ready to defend her. To protect her like he always did. But instead the High Lord just nodded his head, “maybe we can find out why, what magic this is. Maybe you can find more ways to heal people, if you want to that is.”

Nesta held on tightly to Cassian that scene in the church, a funeral she never wanted to attend to filled her head, “right now, I’m just glad it saved my mate’s life.”

Cassian stood up and then helped Nesta to her feet, “me too, love,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. He leaned down and kissed her, both of them clinging to the other for dear life. The kiss they shared was special, it was a kiss they didn’t think they would ever get to share again.

Nesta pulled away and wrapped her arms around his waist, “let’s get you home,” she said as he stumbled slightly, the feelings in his legs just returning to them, “I swear to the Gods if you ever scare me like that again I will kill you myself.”

Cassian laughed, the vibration hitting her through his side, “I wouldn’t put it past you, Nesta. And I promise,” he whispered softly as they stopped walking, “I will never leave you. No matter what, you’re mine. To whatever end.”

Nesta didn’t even have time to smile. Cassian winnowed them back to their apartment and she forced him into bed. She wanted to make sure her magic would hold, that this wasn’t a dream within another dream, one she would wake up from. She held onto Cassian all night, not sleeping for even a second. She checked on him so much he woke up and told her if she didn’t go to sleep he would go sleep in another room.

After glaring at her mate and earning a deep rich laugh from him, she curled up beside him. It took a moment for him to fall back asleep, but Nesta laid there awake, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the steady rhythm of his breathing. After a few hours she realized he was there and this wasn’t a dream, that they wouldn’t be separated. She closed her eyes and let herself finally relax into him as she drifted off to sleep.

In the end it was Nesta’s will and her love that kept Cassian alive that day. It was the strength of her fire and the burning of her need for him that healed his wound. It was her final acceptance of who and what she was that gave her the power to heal both Cassian and the last piece of her fractured heart. It was that same power that had brought them together. It would be that same strength in which they would change their world.


End file.
